Skyrim: Legends of the Phoenix
by IChewBaccas12
Summary: The Phoenix, the terrorizer of the fearless. A man with no morals or remorse.
1. Blood and Broken Hearts

"Ma..." The curious boy asked, "When is Da coming back from his hunting trip?"

Tarik's morose mother hesitated, stalling her answer by taking one big gulp from her wine bottle. Tarik intently stared his mother in the eyes with a look of unease. She lightly put her half empty wine bottle on the table. She turned her gaze to the sky, her young son's heart dropped. Thoughts raced through his mind, his head felt heavy. His mother gazed back down at her son, the timid child had glazed eyes.

"Soon..." She said, standing up from her crooked chair. She entered her old farm house, leaving her son on the porch.

He knew she wasn't telling him something, that his father was 4 months late, that Tarik's da was found floating face down in a river. He read the note his mother received, the stupid fucking penitent letter she didn't tell her son about. Tarik felt desolate for the first time in his life, true desolation. He glared at his reflection in the wine bottle sitting in front of him. He looked feeble and inadequate, because he was. He was nothing but a tear drop in a sea of blood and broken hearts.

his hand reached for the bottle, snatching it and pulling it close. He eyed the inside of the bottle closely before taking a giant sip of the putrid substance. As soon as he finished his sip, he made a sour face before coughing dry air out of his lungs. He hated its taste, but the cold numbing sensation that tentacled throughout his body felt relaxing and soothing. He stared into the stars, then landed his gaze in the small field of crops only a short distance from where he sat.

He stood from his chair, hopping off the porch and onto the rough dirt. He followed the narrow path in the field of crops. The tall potatoe plants matched his height perfectly, making him feel hidden an cramped. Either side of him was covered, leaving a tiny gap infront and behind him. A light but hostile growl bellowed from the dense plants. Tarik ignored the sound, sitting down and sinking the rest of the wine down his throat. He took one last look into the glass bottle. Then, he threw it as far as he could.

It lunged from the crops, fiercely barking in Tarik's ear. Tarik looked into his dogs eyes, a tear running down his cheek. The dog whimpered, rubbing up against his owner.

"It's okay, Phoenix," Tarik hugged his dog, "You'll get me one of these days."

He put on a lousy smile, trying to cheer his best friend up. Phoenix opened his mouth, allowing his tongue to flop out. Phoenix sat down, and he shoved his paw onto Tarik's lap. Tarik chuckled, he put his hand on his friends back, rubbing back and forth vigorously.

"At least you won't leave me, right buddy?" Phoenix licked his owners face, then backing away and barking, "You wanna go inside?" Another bark.

Tarik jumped to his feet, stopping and realizing how whoozy he was. Ignoring his clear discomfort, Phoenix ran to Tarik's porch. Tarik took one last deep breath.


	2. Through the Light of the Fallen Sun

Tarik rode along the cobbled roads with his noble stead and Phoenix. They silently trotted through the thick forest, only the chirps of crickets and the soft footsteps of the two animals could be heard throughout the air. Tarik's job was simple, take the weapons to Solitude. They said he wasn't tough enough to be a soldier, so they gave him a job even a fool could do, weapon smuggling. Hide a few swords and warhammers within a merchants shipment, and you got a pass through stormcloak territory. Though, the fur armor and iron sword he was given surely didn't comfort the unease he always felt.

"Just a little while to go until we reach Dragon's Bridge." Tarik stated to his two comrades.

Suddenly, in the distance, through the light of the fallen sun, he saw a figure. They were sitting beside the edge of the road, and as Tarik approached, he noticed there was a large gash spread across their arm. The woman looked up ahead at him, raising her other arm, waving him over. Tarik was fretful, bandits set traps like this across Skyrim all the time. It's the oldest trick in the book, and Tarik read it like one, too. As they passed, the woman pleaded,

"Help! Please!" She whimpered, "I'll die out here."

Tarik bowed his head, avoiding eye contact. With a shameful head, he said the only thing he could, "I'm sorry..."

"No! Why are you doing this?" She cried.

Tarik looked over at her, as she reached for her hip. An arrow whisper through the air, landing directly into his right shoulder. His arm was paralyzed, _how would he use his sword?_ Swiftly and gracefully, Tarik rolled left, landing on his feet. He unsheathed his sword with his left arm, instinctively, he flipped the sword around, engaging in a battle-ready stance. In front of him, a man wearing full steel charged from the trees. Tarik parried the man's first strike, retaliating by slamming his face to the side of the carriage, ripping his steel helm from his head. The man was dazed. Tarik took the oppritunity by sliding his sword into the mans throat, immediately pulling the sword out.

Tarik switched the blades in his hands, his right arm stung like a bitch, but he was trained to use it. He ran to his left looking for his pal. Out of nowhere, a loud battlecry rang from behind him. He promptly turned, blocking upward to protect his head. Luckily, he deflected his attackers strike. He returned the favor by charging his opponent, whose selected weapon was a warhammer. Tarik knew his enemy couldn't strike from short distances. He lead with his sword, planting it in his opponent's abdomen. He sliced downward, pulling the woman toward him. He stepped to the side, avoiding the woman's body, and roughly tossing her corpse aside.

He worriedly ran around the cart, running into the woman who was laying on the ground previously. He jumped backward, hopping into his stance. She held a dagger in her hand, letting Tarik know to keep his distance. But alas, she charged him. It proved to him he was against untrained, unskilled opponents. He really arm came in from under hip, going upward. He lunged aside, slicing down on her arm. Without any pushback, Tarik had separated her hand from her arm. A blood curdling scream exploded from her mouth. Tarik only knew one thing to say,

"I'm sorry." She didn't fight back, she wanted the pain to end. Tarik slit her throat with his sword. Within seconds, she was dead.

Tarik remember the archer in the woods. Before he could process his blunder, another arrow flew from the bushes, landing in the back of his abdomen. Tarik fell to the ground in shock. He heard a loud bark, then a booming growl, followed by a loud scream. The scream turned into a gurgle. The gurgle then slowly turned into silence. Through the silence, a calm whimper shattered the silence. As painful as it was, Tarik pushed the ground in front of him, springing to his feet. He limped into the bush, pushing aside leaves and twigs. He finally pushed through, leaving him with two bodies. A blood covered bandit lying dead on the ground, and his best friend with a sword stuck in his chest. Tarik fell to his knees. He knew there was no healing his friend, he was gone. He fell forward comforting Phoenix.

"It's okay, buddy." Tarik smiled through the tears, "You'll be okay."

His dog helplessly whimpered, staring into Tarik's eyes.

"Goodbye, Phoenix..." He said.


End file.
